The Infernal Paradise
by Laiagarien
Summary: [Work in Progress] Hermione is happily married, but somehow she starts to doubt. In response to the 'And Thou Shalt Not...' challenge on WIKTT. Due to Real Life interfering I haven't updated for a while; I am scheduling a rewrite, but it's not abandoned!
1. Prologue

Prologue

In a far corner of the bottom drawer of a heavy mahogany wardrobe, there was a thick roll of parchment, bound with a blue ribbon and sealed with a seal consisting of an ornate 'G'. The ribbon was frayed and the parchment discoloured; despite the preserving charm the seal was brittle and broke as soon as it was touched. The various pieces of parchment dropped onto the floor and were scattered around the room. On gathering the pieces, it appeared they were all letters, with a date on top – somewhere in the sixteenth century – and addressed to 'my dearest sister'. When he thought he had collected them all again, the man noticed a scrap of Muggle paper that hadn't been there before. The paper looked as if it had been used to wrap something before it had been used to write on. It was wrinkled and torn in places. The writing was untidy, due to probably the material and surface. It seemed charcoal had been used to write it. Intrigued, the man sat down to read it. 

1538, November 23rd 

_My dearest sister,_

Words can't convey what happiness and relief I felt when I saw your owl; as much as possible in this situation, though it caused some confusion as well. I told her to stay here and managed to find a scrap of Muggle paper and charcoal. Oh, the irony. To write your last letter in charcoal when you are about to burn! But I think I am barely intelligible; dearest sister, when you have heard what situation I am in, you will understand. Lord Salvius of Snape, my husband, has accused me of being a witch. He discovered my adultery with Christopher, and he didn't take it too well. Of course, I had expected him to be angry, to throw curses at me, to hex me to the verge of death, then heal me and start over again. I had expected all that and I would barely have minded. I would have understood. I would hardly have been surprised had he poisoned me. After all, I have already given him an heir. But I had not expected this, never expected this. He turned away, silent, and after that didn't acknowledge my presence. I didn't understand, dearest sister, but I didn't complain. Three days ago, 72 long hours, I opened the door and two large Muggles took me, without a word, to York, where I am now. There has been a trial of course, which was played like a Muggle play, of which the lined no doubt were written by Lord Snape. I've been sentenced to be burned, as two other people, both Muggles. Salvius was there, with little Severus. I do not know how he dare show his face there, sitting next to his son, after his treachery to wizardkind. Imagine, the man who prides himself on the bloodline that can be traced back to ancient Rome, the man who wants to wipe all Muggles out of existence, lets his wife, as pure of blood as himself, be burned a witch, together with two obvious Muggles who have done nothing but being in the wrong place at the wrong time. My Christopher was there as well. Dearest sister, will you believe me as I say I would have born anything not to see the cold and distance in my Christopher's eyes? I would have taken every curse, every hex. Every poison. 

_Farewell, my dearest sister. Take care of yourself and grieve not too much, for it my own sin for which I will be punished. Do not come to my aid, the Muggles would burn you alongside me, but please, look after Severus a little. He needs a mother._

_Cornelia_


	2. Chapter One

This story is inspired by many challenges on WIKTT, but mainly And Thou Shalt Not. 

Hermione is happily married, but then she meets somebody unexpectedly... SS/HG. 

The Infernal Paradise – Chapter 1 

"Mum! Mum!" 

Hermione sighed. Could they never enjoy themselves for longer than ten minutes at a time? She turned around when her children came running into the room. 

"What is it, boys?" she asked them. 

"He stole my wand!" said the youngest, pointing accusingly at his elder brother. 

"I did not! You left it lying around, I picked it up," said the eldest. 

"Did to!"

"He did nothing!" joined the other one of the twins.

"Boys, boys! Stop this, and immediately!" Hermione cut in before her sons would be too engrossed in their argument. "Sean, give your brother his wand back. Will, you know that if you don't play with things, you should put them away. Besides, Sean has just as much right to play with it as you have. Brian, don't always play two to one. Will is four years your junior. Why don't you just go and play for a while?" 

"We're bored," Sean said. 

"Yeah, Mummy," said the youngest while leaning to her knees. "Can't you tell us a story?" She sighed again. She had hoped to get through the newest edition of _Passion for Potions_ today, but in truth she hadn't read an entire book in years. 

"All right. But after that you'll do your homework," she said to the eldest while rising and picking up Will. "Come, let's sit down here." With the youngest on her lap and the other two huddled closely towards her, she started thinking. 

"What kind of story do you want to hear?" she asked her boys, but already knowing the answer. 

"About the Greeks!" they yelled in unison. Hermione smiled. Ever since she had told them about the adventures of Ulysses, they didn't want to hear any other stories than Greek myths. Hermione decided she would tell a Roman story today, because she ran out of stories. 

"I knew you would say that," she said.

"Do you remember the story about the destruction of Troy?" They nodded. "Good. I told you then, that none of the Trojans survived. That's not true. There was a man, named Aeneas, who took his father, his wife and his son, put them on a boat and fled. You must know, that this man was not just a man: his mother was the goddess Venus. His son, Ascanius, was destined to become king of Latium, a part of what we now call Italy. 

"Juno, the goddess of marriage, held a grudge against Aeneas and his company, because she had heard a prophecy. From Trojan blood would spring a proud people, ruling over a great part of the world, which would destroy Carthage. Carthage was a city on the shore opposite of Italy, in what we now call Tunisia, and Juno held it in high esteem, like Minerva did Athens. Besides, Juno was still angry at the Trojans because Paris had slighted her and chosen Venus as the most beautiful goddess. 

"Juno decided she had to prevent the ship from reaching the shores of Latium. So she asked the god of winds to help her and made the ship wander across the sea for years. Finally, they reached the shore of Carthage, with damaged ships and tired men. There and then, Venus decided to interfere. Disguised as a huntress, she appeared before her son and guided him to the city. 

"Thriving and beautiful, the city was not old as Troy or Athens, but just founded by the Queen Dido, who had left her country after her brother had slain her husband. When shown to the Queen, Aeneas declared he did not want to fight, and Dido welcomed him and his men into the city. 

"Venus now sent for her son Eros, to light the fire of love for Aeneas in Dido. Dido gave Aeneas presents and asked him about his adventures. She wanted to hear the tragic story of Troy over and over again, because she was under a spell of passion. Juno, seeing this, was not cruel enough to hurt Dido by killing Aeneas. Dido is so much in love she neglects all other things; new buildings and walls are left unfinished. 

"Then Dido organised a great hunting party for her own people and the guests. During the hunt a violent storm raged over the land; all the company spread to find subterfuge in various caves and shelters. By chance or divine interference, Dido and Aeneas found themselves in the same cave. Lightning flashes as the lovers are united in marriage by Juno herself, and this marriage is the source of Dido's misery. 

"Jupiter, however, found it time for Aeneas to continue his journey, and therefore he sent his messenger Mercury down to earth. Mercury reminded Aeneas of his journey and the destiny of his son, and Aeneas is suddenly eager to leave the city. 

"Dido wasn't fooled, though Aeneas prepared for his journey in secret. When she confronted him, he denied every appearance of marriage, and though it gave him great pains, he repressed his feelings and spoke coolly. She dismisses him, grieved but speaking of hatred and vengeance. Sighing and wishing he could comfort her, Aeneas carried out the Gods' will and left.

"Dido now considered her life ended; she made a pile of all the presents Aeneas had given her. She climbed upon the pyre and bared a Trojan sword, not meant for this abuse. She speaks her final words, saying her life would have been happy had Aeneas never reached her shores and hoping he would see the fire and repent. Then she fell on top of the sword, and the sword foamed with her blood, blood staining her hands. 

"Aeneas had meanwhile reached the entrance to the Hades, the realms of the dead. He wanted to speak with his father, who had died during the long years at sea, but recognised another familiar form instead. Seeing her wound and her cold stone-like face, Aeneas cried and spoke lovingly, finally spoke the truth about his forced depart. But nothing he said, nothing he did, could move the stony face, until she fled to her husband Sychaeus, who heard her grief and answered her love. And long stood Aeneas there, watching, with tears in his eyes and pity in his heart." 

She stopped and sighed. She had been so engrossed in telling on of her favourite stories she hadn't heard the tell-tale "pop" of someone Apparating. She turned her head to see her husband approaching. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. 

"Hello, dear," she said, while disentangling herself from her children. She hadn't realised it was that late already; otherwise she would have told the twins to make their homework before. Well, they just would have to do it tonight. 

"Come, boys. Wash your hands and sit down. Dinner is almost ready." She flicked her wand at the dish she had prepared earlier, and then levitated it onto the table. She gave everyone his share and cut the meat for the youngest. They ate mainly in silence, apart from occasional remarks about Brian and Sean's eating habits. 

When they had finished the meal and the dessert, Hermione cleared the table with her wand and made the dishes wash themselves. 

"Right. Sean, Brian, I believe you still have some work to do."

"How about Will?" the boy reacted.

"Will is going to take a bath and go to bed." 

"But, Mum..." the youngest threatened to start whining. She shook her head warningly, which stopped the boy short. She took the three of them upstairs, setting the twins to their homework and putting the other one in the bathtub, where he played contently until the water got colder. She wrapped him in a large towel, rather than using a drying charm. He was now almost asleep, so she cleaned his teeth quickly and dressed him for the night. When she put him in bed, he was already sleeping. For a moment, she stood just looking at him, and then turned away. 

When she had repeated the procedure with the older boys, who were less inclined to fall asleep and more inclined to complain about homework, she went downstairs and fell down in a chair by the fire. Her husband was already sitting in the other chair and pointed his wand at the teapot, without looking up from his newspaper. 

"Perce?" she asked. "Could you keep the boys busy tomorrow? I am afraid I'll have to visit Diagon Alley for some supplies. You know them, they would probably tear half the Apothecary apart." 

"All right," her red-haired husband answered. "Can you bring some parchment and a few quills for me?" She nodded. 

"Anything else I can get you?" 

"No, I'm fine. But you might consider buying some new dress robes. Not that the ones you have don't suit you," he added quickly when he saw her straighten up. "But as we will be dining with the Minister next week, I think you could buy something appropriate." 

Hermione sank back in her chair. She didn't like the Minister for Magic, she didn't know his wife very well, and she didn't want to know what other guests there would be. Never had she been a great fan of formal dinners, though she had attended some as a child, when her parents had had important visitors. The wizarding dinners were another matter entirely. Though she had been present at a couple of weddings, including her own, she didn't feel comfortable at formal wizarding events. She always felt like they looked down on her for her parentage, especially where the Minister was concerned. And she had never dined at the Minister's Residence. 

"What is the occasion?" she asked. 

"There will be an important meeting with the French Minister for Magic. It has something to do with the rise of a Dark wizard in France. As head of the Department for International Magical Cooperation, it is appropriate that I am there. The Minister will be there of course, his wife, the French Minister and his wife, and I believe some members of the Order of the Phoenix have been invited." 

That was some kind of a relief to Hermione. The summers spent at no. 12 Grimmauld Place had ensured she knew most of the members of the Order, at least by name and occupation, enough for empty chitchat. She despised talking without saying anything at all, but it was better than sitting in a corner and not talking at all. 

"Right, I will see to new robes as well. You should go too, if it is that important. You have worn the same dress robes to every occasion for these past four years. The Minister could probably draw you out in those," she answered. 

"The Minister can't draw," Percy retorted seriously. 

-^-^-

Author's Note: 

The title of this story is the literal translation of the title of a Dutch children's book, Het Helse Paradijs, by Thea Beckman. 

I have retold the story of Dido and Aeneas after the original of Vergil's _Aeneïs_, with help from two websites I can't mention due to ff-policy. I will be happy to provide you with them, if you drop me a line. 


	3. Chapter Two

The Infernal Paradise - Chapter 2 

Hermione stood in front of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and took a deep breath before she entered. She didn't like shopping for clothes in general, and she liked it even less when she _had_ to buy something in particular. Something like dress robes, for instance. 

"Good morning, how can I help you?" Madam Malkin asked as soon as she entered. 

"Good morning," Hermione answered. "I need a set of new dress robes." 

"Very well. I think we will find something for you, dear" said the elderly witch, while measuring Hermione with her eyes. Hermione felt uncomfortable under that gaze. The witch left her for a moment and returned with a bright yellow set of robes with a low neckline. Hermione shook her head. 

"No, no. That's way too... revealing. I am not trying to get a man, I already have one." 

"It will look lovely on you, my dear. Do try it on." 

"No, it isn't appropriate. I am going to a formal dinner, not some kind of students ball," she held on, silently annoyed at being called 'dear'. She amused herself by wondering whether Molly would still be called 'dear'. 

"Oh, but you should have said that right away, my dear. How about..." the witch stopped talking as she put her head into a rack with robes, and came out holding a creation in dark green silk. Hermione disappeared to a changing room and put on the robes. Though it was certainly suitable, she wasn't all that convinced. The colour suited her well, but it made her think of Slytherin and Dark magic. Perhaps it wouldn't be appropriate to attend a meeting meant to stop a Dark wizard rising, while you could pass for a Dark Arts practitioner yourself. When she came out of the small room, Madam Malkin glanced once and shook her head. Again, she disappeared in the racks of robes and this time came out with a bundle of subdued bluish-grey fabric that seemed to change colour with the light. Hermione changed and she had to admit the robes suited her. The neckline showed a lot of shoulder, but nearly no décolleté. The fabric, she saw now, consisted of two layers: a dark blue layer of velvet underneath, and a thin light grey fabric over it. While the blue part had narrow sleeves and a tight skirt, the grey was wide and flowing. 

"Let me see it, dear," the matron called. Hermione was now starting to get really irritated by being called 'dear' by the witch, like a first-year at Hogwarts. 

"It will do," she said coolly. "I'll take it. You can send it to Stoatshead House, please." 

"And the payment?" inquired Madam Malkin, not longer friendly but equally distant. 

"Weasley, vault 423. Good day, madam Malkin," she answered. Without waiting for a reply, she left. She was sick of still being treated like a student, even after being married for nearly seven years. 

She had a few more things to buy, but that was fairly simple. When she had bought new quills and parchment, together with some ink that changed colour to make writing more entertaining for Brian and Sean, she went to the Apothecary. She desperately needed an Analgesic Potion and a number of other supplies. A handful of kitchen herbs wouldn't go amiss either. 

Her hand was already turning the doorknob when she saw she wasn't the only customer. Normally, that wouldn't have stopped her, but his form she hadn't seen for more than seven years. And yet she would have recognised it anywhere. 

It was Severus Snape. 

She let go of the handle and turned to lean against the wall. It had been nearly ten years since she had last seen him. For ten years she had visited Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, Grimmauld Place and numerous other wizarding households, and never had she seen him. She closed her eyes for a moment.

_"Hermione," he said weakly. "We shouldn't do this." She put her finger on his lips, and then replaced it by her mouth. At first, he kissed back, but then pulled away. _

_"No. I can't do this. It is too dangerous. There are people enough who would kill you, only to hurt me with it. You'd better go now."_

She had protested, of course. She had told him she loved him, she had told him she didn't care who was after her. She had said she would rather die the following day, than live without him. It had been to no avail. _You had better go now._

She opened her eyes, straightened her back and entered the Apothecary. She silently waited until Severus had placed his substantial order and commanded the man to send it to Hogwarts. When he turned around to leave, he almost walked into her. He was stunned for a moment, but she pretended not to notice. 

"Professor Snape," she said politely. The man who had taken Snape's order had now left, apparently to see to the supplies. 

"Miss Granger," he answered curtly. 

"Mrs. Weasley," she corrected him, silently wondering whether he hadn't even heard she had married. She had expected Minerva to keep the staff a little informed. 

"So you married Ronald Weasley, then?" he asked. She thought he looked a little... disappointed at that. She had spent some time in his company and even though he seldom openly displayed his emotions, usually his eyes would give away how he felt. 

"No, I've been married to Percy Weasley, actually, for nearly seven years." The clerk had returned now. 

"Excuse me for a moment, Professor," she said, while turning towards the counter. 

"One bottle of Analgesic Potion, please," she said to the wizard. She heard Severus leave the shop. While a part of her was relieved, another part was disappointed with his leaving so soon. While she placed the rest of her order, she noticed Severus was pacing in front of the shop. She finished her business quickly and went outside. 

"Well, Miss... Mrs. Weasley. I believe I had taught you sufficiently for you to be able to brew your own Analgesic Potions?" he said as soon as she had crossed the threshold.

"Of course, Professor. I only find that I lack the equipment. Not everywhere a dungeon is available," she retorted. "Some of the required ingredients had better be kept far from food, children, or pets." 

"True, Mrs. Weasley. However, by chance I _do_ have a dungeon available. If it isn't too much out of your way, you could come there and brew your potion." Before she could answer him, he Disapparated. 

-^-^-

Severus tried to calm himself down. Ten years had he not seen her, and now, just as he went to Diagon Alley instead of Hogsmeade, she had business there. He had needed some of the more exotic potions ingredients, for his own private store as well as the students supplies. Besides, it was the Hogsmeade weekend, so the town would be swarmed with students, something he could well do without in his spare time. Diagon Alley had the added bonus of a well-supplied bookstore. 

Just his luck, then, to walk into an ex-student while evading the current load. And not just a former student. No, of course it had to be the one student that had helped him in her seventh year, the only one who volunteered to be near him longer than strictly necessary, and the only one who came nearer than strictly necessary. 

'Admit it, Severus,' he thought to himself. He had been in love with her. It had seemed she was in love with him too. And he had sent her away. She had pleaded with him to let her stay, but he had refused. Weakly, at first, as he had been dazed by her kissing him, but when he had regained his power to think he had been able to push her away. 

_"Loving somebody makes one vulnerable. I can't afford being vulnerable. You had better go now."_

Sent her away indeed. He had phrased the sentence... no, the sentence had phrased itself so that he hadn't actually said he didn't love her. But somehow, he doubted she had heard the nuance in his words. Ten years ago. 

Then the war had come. They had seen people get cursed; they had seen people die. He had been cleared, formally, but was still mistrusted. Albus Dumbledore had been cursed, had jumped in front of a curse meant for Harry Potter. He had not died; he was now in St. Mungo's, incapable of anything but the most basic human activities. In the end, the greatest wizard of the century would die the senile old man he had seemed for years. Seemed, but not been. It was deplorable to see the man who used to have such a great mind, not even being able to recognise people. 

Of course, the Terrible Trio had survived without as much as a scar. Potter had married Ginny Weasley quite soon afterwards, and of course it had been a major event; half the wizarding world had been there. That had been the last time he had seen Hermione. 

And now, ten years later, with all his guards down - well, at least the guards he had put up against her – he accidentally ran into her. She had hardly seemed to flinch at their meeting. Maybe she had forgotten. 

That moment Severus made a decision. He would visit Albus tomorrow.


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter 3

Severus walked up to the entrance to St. Mungo's, dressed in Muggle clothes. He could of course have Apparated straight to the entrance hall, if not to Albus' room, but somehow he preferred the walk. 

He _did_ feel rather silly, talking to the mannequin in the window, but there weren't many Muggles around at this early hour. 

"Professor Snape?" he heard someone ask. Great, just another ex-student. Fortunately, this was not that particular student. A Hufflepuff, if he remembered correctly. Easily scared and terribly afraid of making mistakes. Apparently, he had chosen the right job, as a Mediwizard. 

"I am here to see Albus Dumbledore," he announced. The words 'Headmaster' or 'Professor' just didn't seem to fit any longer. 

"I am sure he will be glad to see you, sir. I suppose you know the way?" Severus nodded and turned around. 

Albus Dumbledore sat straight up in bed, looking frail in a near-white nightshirt instead of his voluminous and ostentatiously coloured robes. His hair and beard had been cut rather short, no doubt for the benefit of the staff rather than the owner of them. Other than that, in appearance Albus had not changed. His eyes twinkled merrily and next to his bed stood a tray with tea and a nauseating amount of sweets. 

"Good morning, Albus," Severus said, while summoning himself a chair and sitting down. 

"Why, good morning. Do you want a cup of tea?" 

"If it doesn't inconvenience you, I'd prefer coffee," Severus answered, as it was only ten o'clock. 

"That's quite all right with me. Here you are, dear boy," said the old man, handing Severus a cup of tea. Not wanting to offend, Severus discreetly pointed his wand at the cup and changed the contents to coffee. Strong, black coffee. 

"How are you, Albus?" Severus asked, mentally noting that his condition had worsened since he had last been here, about a month ago. As far as he knew, only the older staff of Hogwarts still visited regularly. Albus had no living relatives, and most of his friends had died years ago. Even Potter, who owed his sanity, if not his life, to this man, didn't visit. Moving on, all right. 

"I'm fine, boy, just fine. The service is great here, I only have to ask and they get it."

"That is easy, Albus. They just wave their wands and conjure up everything they want," Severus said, carefully monitoring Albus' reaction. The old man looked confused and shook his head. Severus sighed; Albus didn't even remember magic. 

"Albus, I've got to tell you something. I think I am in love." The old wizard didn't react exactly; it did not matter to him what you talked about, but he liked to hear voices. Severus repressed the urge to recite potions recipes; though Albus probably would not even notice, it didn't seem right to him. 

"Do you remember Hermione Granger?" he asked. To his surprise, Albus' eyes lost their twinkle and seemed serious. 

"She helped me make potions for the Order and poisons for the Dark Lord. She waited for me to come back after the summons. I fell in love with her, and she fell in love with me." 

"Did you marry her, Severus?" Severus looked up in surprise; he hadn't heard that voice say his name in... ten years. 

"No," he whispered. "I sent her away." 

-^-^-

"_Who_ did you meet?" Parvati said incredulously. It was a few days after she had been to Diagon Alley. Hermione had walked to The Burrow with her boys and, as the children got spoiled by Molly, now enjoyed coffee and girl talk with Ron's wife. 

"Now let me get this straight. You had just bought dress robes at Madam Malkin's, and you ran into Snape at the Apothecary?" 

"Yes," Hermione answered. "And he was practically stunned with surprise, he called me Miss Granger, and he asked me whether he hadn't taught me enough to brew my own Analgesic Potions. And he practically invited me to visit him."

"He did _what_?" asked Parvati, even more surprised than before. 

"Seems you have a hearing problem tonight," Hermione said teasingly. "He said, literally: 'I _do_ have a dungeon available. If it isn't too much out of your way, you could come there and brew your potion."

"And you are sure this is the same Snape as ever?" Parvati answered. 

"Positive. I never expected him to do that, really. I mean; he basically sent me away."

"How do you mean? You just said he invited you to visit him." Parvati gave her a blank look. 

"Did nobody ever tell you? Oh my god..." Hermione said, now half and half ashamed. Parvati didn't like Severus Snape any better than Ron had in their first year.

"You remember that I used to assist him brewing healing draughts?" Hermione asked her friend, not knowing where to start the story. Parvati nodded. In their seventh year, some of the older students had been asked to assist their professors with their duties. Hermione had taken the job that nobody wanted or dared to accept: assisting professor Snape. Parvati had worked as a Mediwitch then, and now worked part-time at St.Mungo's. 

"We did not only make healing potions. As I already knew of his double agent role, I got to assist in making several poisons for Voldemort." Parvati gasped. She had been told of Snape's role in the Order after Voldemort had been defeated, but she hadn't given it much thought.

"I never knew that!"

"Of course you didn't. In order to keep up his cover, he had to keep supplying Voldemort with poisons and strengthening potions. Of course, we weakened most of them. Occasionally, Severus was called away when we were making some potion or other, and one time I fell asleep in the laboratory."

"Severus? The two of you are on a first-name basis?"

"Yes, we are... or were, at least. Never mind that now. I had fallen asleep, and I woke up by some stumbling. It turned out that Voldemort had cursed rather liberally that day, and Severus had gotten more than his share. He could barely walk, so I assisted..."

"He allowed you to help him?"

"He wasn't really in a shape to protest, otherwise he certainly wouldn't have. He refused to go to the Hospital Wing, so I healed him as best I could. After that I waited for him to come back after the summons. Most times I had to heal him. He had a pretty rough time." 

"I never thought about those things... I had of course heard he was a Death Eater, but as Dumbledore seemed to trust him..." said Parvati thoughtfully. 

"There was more to it. But to make a long story short, one thing led to another and I fell in love." She tentatively looked up to read her friend's reaction and saw Parvati was now stunned. "One day, I had healed him again, and I kissed him. He kissed back at first, but as soon as he had overcome the surprise he sent me away." 

Hermione closed her eyes. She remembered that scene like yesterday... or better, since her days looked pretty much the same now. 

_"You had better go now."_

_"But, Severus, I love you."_

_"Hermione, look at me. What am I?"_

_"A man who had sacrificed a great deal and deserves to be loved?"_

_"I am a Death Eater! You know, one of those people wearing long black robes and silvery masks, and an ugly Mark. One of those people who want to rid the world of every wizard or witch who isn't of the purest parentage possible. One of those people who kiss the robes of a being, more reptile than human, whose only desire is to gain immortality."_

_"You are no longer a Death Eater, you know that," Hermione disagreed. _

_"To Voldemort I am. To the world I am. Besides, I told you I have enemies. People who are willing to torture, willing to kill. They could kill you, just to hurt me."_

_"I don't care about people wanting to kill me."_

_"I _do _care about people wanting to kill you. Loving somebody makes one vulnerable. I can't afford being vulnerable. You had better go now."_

"Hermione, are you alright?" Parvati asked. 

"Yes, I'm fine," Hemione answered, but she didn't sound convincing to Parvati.

"Regrets?" Parvati inquired softly as she saw a faint glimmer in the other woman's eyes. Hermione shook her head, but the tears flowed freely now. 

"You mentioned you bought new dress robes," said Parvati, while putting an arm around Hermione's shoulder. "There isn't a wedding I haven't been told about, is there?" Hermione smiled faintly at her friend's attempt to distract her. 

"No, there isn't. It's some undoubtedly boring formal dinner at the Minister's Residence, tomorrow evening."

"Did you just say you will be dining at the Minister's Residence? That's an honour!" Parvati exclaimed excitedly. 

"What do I hear?" Molly asked, while she walked in. "Did my son conveniently forget to tell me he is invited by the Minister?" 

"Yes, I suppose so," answered Hermione unenthusiastically. "He would have forgotten to tell me, if it weren't for the fact that I needed new dress robes. But, honour or not, I am not exactly looking forward to it."

"Why, it's normal to be a little nervous at such an event. You have to tell us everything afterwards!"

"I am _not_ nervous!" Hermione rejected. "Well, maybe I am. But that's not the point. It's more that I don't like the minister, and I think that feeling is mutual. I hardly know his wife, and I don't even know the _name_ of the current French minister for magic, who, by the way, will also be present. There will be some members of the Order present, but I don't know who, and as the two of you haven't heard anything I doubt it will be someone I know well." 

"Come on, dear, it won't be that bad," Molly said soothingly. "There are hardly any members of the Order that you aren't acquainted with. I believe you do even speak French, don't you?" 

"Yes, I speak French," Hermione admitted grudgingly. "But I doubt I will be more comfortable talking about nothing in French than I would in English." 

*"Hermione, are you ill?" Parvati asked suddenly, sounding a little testy. 

"How do you mean?" 

"Do you suffer from an incurable illness, to which you will succumb before tomorrow evening, eleven o'clock?" 

"No, why?" Hermione asked, not quite comprehending what her friend tried to convey. 

"Then I suppose you'd better just go there and make the best of it."*

-^-^-

Author's Note: The part between ** is a variation on a quote from ER, where Benton had to dine at Anspaugh's. 


End file.
